


Anthems for a Seventeen Year-Old Scientist.

by LongTallWeekend



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Abuse, Based on a song, Childhood Trauma, Coming Out, Emotional Baggage, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Trauma, based on the Gyro was kicked out by his mother and has a terrible relationship with her hc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 06:41:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17116352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LongTallWeekend/pseuds/LongTallWeekend
Summary: Over-analyzing past trauma isn't healthy, but Gyro leaves a day just to do just that every year. However, things don't go as planned when a certain employee doesn't get the memo.





	Anthems for a Seventeen Year-Old Scientist.

**Author's Note:**

> This entire fic is loosely based on the song "Anthems for A Seventeen Year-Old Girl". Not entirely but, some lyrics hit it. Also it's a really really good song.

There's something magnificent and complex about how our lives work. How some type of catastrophic event, some disastereous occurrence, can lead to where you are at this exact moment, though seemingly unrelated.  
Gyro Gearloose stood at this work bench, normally he'd be working on some mundane project right now, but today was a certain day. Today was the day he'd left home, a time while so long ago still was embedded in his memory. It was a harsh day, terrible day, something he can't help but reserve a day to think about. For almost a decade he sat in this room, since that very day, thinking of what he could have done to avoid it...or what would have happened had he avoided it. Temporal paradoxes were tricky in their own right, it's hard to tell what would have really happened had he not done what he had done, but from a ways he could get a good idea of the possiblities. 

Hands on the table, he stood almost motionless, a statue of despair. Silence filled the room, unable to be broken, the world revolved around his still body. Until, the silence inevitabley was broken, by such of a misinformed co-worker. A word unsaid, the sound only formed by the constant fumbling of boxes in hand.  
"Cabrera. Did you get my email?" Gyro moved from his position, turning to the duck making his way down. Fenton was carrying boxes of scrap and tools, unbalanced in his hands, ready to fall at any second. "God - let me give you a hand before you WRECK something."

"Email? Mr. Gearloose I haven't checked my email in years!" Fenton exclaimed, struggle audible in his voice. Gyro made his way up, lifting up the boxes he could out of Fenton's hands, before going back down and setting them near his work station. Fenton followed suit.

"Why did you put it in your application then?" Gyro replied, annoyed with the incompetence of his coworker. 

"It asked for one!

Gyro sighed, running his fingers through his tuft of white hair. He didn't like company in this time, especially unexpected company. The aboslute neglegence of his employee annoyed him greatly.

"Today was an off day, for EVERYONE. I sent an email. I need to be alone today so you may as well just go now." He made his way back to where he was before Fenton had stumbled inside, leaning on the desk with only the support of one hand, the other on his hip. 

"I'm so so so sorry Mr. Gearloose," Fenton groveled, "Wait, you want to be alone? You want us to have an off day as well? Gyro this doesn't sound like you, we've been working relentlessly since I've started here, now suddenly an off day...we don't even usually take holidays off! We just get here earlier in the morning and leave earlier than usual. Gyro, are you alright?" Fenton's worrisome expression pained Gyro, he knew he was going to pry. He never talked about what happened to anyone and that wasn't going to start today, it reveals too much. He'd rather remain a powerful entity with great intellect, let them decide on their own how he got here. 

"I'm fine, in fact I'm incredible." Gyro said with obvious sarcasm, "Can't a guy be nice for one day? Maybe I felt bad?" Gyro turned away from Fenton, he felt himself shaking, he didn't know why, he had no idea why he felt so weak at this moment.

"Maybe...maybe I just needed to be...to be...left alone. Maybe, just MAYBE, I needed to think on my utter mistake as a son and failure to keep any relationship with my family or friends back home!" 

He didn't know what came over himself. Mid sentence he'd felt this incredible urge, this shaking feeling, something he couldn't help. Years of pushed back hurt had forced themselves through, as much as he wished they'd stayed put. 

"Gyro...what does that mean?"

"Just leave, just go. I already said way too much." Holding back tears he'd suppressed for years, one slivering out as it became too strong. "Bye Cabrera, goodbye! Please just - leave."

"You know Gyro...my M'ma says that one in distress will only get better with company around...being alone with your thoughts on whatever this is isn't healthy." Fenton walked over to a spot beside Gyro, positioning himself at just a good enough distance as not to invade whatever personal bubble Gyro had locked himself in. 

Gyro stared at his hands that he had placed on the table, fingers spread far from each other. Trying to collect himself as much as he could. There was no turning back, that strong facade had far been thrown away from him freak out.

"Just," Gyro grabbed a seat, pulling it to his position where he once stood. "take a seat, find a chair whatever. I guess if I'm gonna tell anyone at this point it has to be you."


End file.
